Reviews Archives - Page 10 of 77 - The Millions
April 7, 2015
by Mike Broida
The inheritance of Steinbeck in Packer’s multigenerational novel is strong and diffuse.
April 1, 2015
by Janet Potter
If 21st-century technology has made public shaming easier, faster, and more random, it’s also made us all targets. This book makes it clear than anything you say or do can be held against you in a court of opinion, by people who don’t know anything about you, in perpetuity.
March 31, 2015
Beyond Binaries: On ‘Selfish, Shallow and Self-Absorbed: Sixteen Writers on the Decision Not to Have Kids’ 15
by Edan Lepucki
I never placed before myself an either/or choice: writing or parenthood. I do think it’s possible to love your child unconditionally, and to also care deeply about one’s artistic pursuits. They aren’t mutually exclusive.
March 19, 2015
The echoes of myth in Macdonald’s writing, however subtle and unobtrusive, lend her book an emotional weight usually reserved only for literature, and a grace only for poetry.
March 18, 2015
If he could get healthy, and stop drinking, he might find a girl with a sweet ass, like his wife.
March 9, 2015
by Matt Seidel
Beatty’s voice is as appealing, erudite, and entertaining. It is a lacerating, learned, witty, and vulgar voice — brash and vulnerable and self-righteous in its jeremiad against self-righteousness of any kind.
March 6, 2015
These are often stories about young men doing stupid shit, or young men not doing enough good shit, or young men doing good shit in the wrong way.
March 4, 2015
Tillman’s authorial voice is singular, and her spoken voice is, too. It’s truly an amplification of the voice on the page. Many people have remarked on the quality of Tillman’s voice: its strength and intellect, its wit and warmth. It’s also raspy, sensitive, perceptive, keen—delivered with a New York accent.
March 3, 2015
by Jaime Green
There is a remarkable sureness to this book, a calm hush like that of a person who speaks softly so that you lean in to listen.
March 2, 2015
At some moments, I felt I had found an apocryphal eighth Chronicle of Narnia, written by a particularly cheerless, possibly aphasic disciple of C.S. Lewis.